Tag Archives: Germany

I’ve noticed a continual trend whenever I visit Europe, and it’s getting downright bizarre: t-shirts with non-sensical English words on them.

I know that this isn’t new – there are entire blogs dedicated to this stuff, but usually it occurs in Asian countries that use a non-Roman alphabet, so the discrepancy sort of makes sense, and it’s very much a two-way street: I knew plenty of girls in college who didn’t speak a lick of Japanese but that didn’t stop them from getting tattoos of what they claimed were the kanji symbols for “harmony” and “happiness.”

I have no idea how they verified that.

But the thing is, practically everyone in Europe speaks English. And they speak it very, very well. And yet there are still lots of shirts like this:

It says (in case you have trouble reading it): “DON’T WORRY BE SEXY -1969- SUPREME LIFE.”


I’ve been to Munich so many times that I’ve started to take the city for granted. I’ve somehow convinced myself that I’ve seen all there is to see in the city. This is patently untrue.

Seen it.


Entire districts of have completely escaped my notice. I’ve a list of museums I’ve yet to visit. Hell, there are still things to see in the parts of the city that I know well.




Remember me?

I know, I know. It’s been a while. Given how regularly I blog, I’ve been weirdly absent for the last few weeks. I’m sorry. It probably looks like I’m having an affair with another website, and I promise, that’s not it. Except for my flirtations with Zappos, I remain as committed as ever to this site. I swear.

I’ve just been busy. And traveling. And doing a bunch of other things that I will tell you about at a later date (promise). (more…)

Helloooo from … the east coast of the United States? Yeah, that sounds about right. It’s presently 6:40 am in Boston, is where I woke up this morning. Which means it’s afternoon in the country that we just left yesterday, and it’s not quite 4am at home. A brief equation:

[3:40 am - (5 hours of sleep) / (I really need a cookie) ] + (where did I put my clean underwear?) = I DON’T KNOW WHERE I LIVE ANYMORE.

I really shouldn’t be on the internet right now because I’m way, waaay too zonked, but I’ve gotten a few emails from people asking when I was going to post again, and I’m feeling massively guilty about that (you can take the girl out of Catholicism but you can’t take Catholicism out of the girl, you know?)

Am I rambling? I probably am. Dear god, I need a cookie. But before I do that (SEE HOW I SUFFER?) here is a preview of the Germany portion of our trip. 10 photos, courtesy of my husband’s cell phone (which means that there are actually pictures of me amongst them, in a slightly more awake state than I am now. Which, to be fair, isn’t hard to do).

I was going to make it 12 photos of Bavaria but you guys, MY COOKIE LEVEL IS TOO LOW.

I’ll be back on Wednesday with some proper posts. In the meantime, here’s a little sneak peak at what we got up to.



  2. Hanging out at Neuschwanstein Castle (which is the model for Cinderella’s castle at Disney).


We are standing in a small courtyard in Munich, when I start acting like my mother, and my brother starts acting exactly like himself. Which, in this instance, means that he’s taken his son’s hand and is pretending to punch things.

He even makes the appropriate “Pssht! Pssht!” punching noises.

And then -god help me – HE PRETENDS TO PUNCH HIS SON.

And sometimes, he had the baby punch him.


“EDWARD,” I snap.


“Stop punching your baby.”


I’m … um … crap. Honestly, I don’t know where I will be when this post goes up. I’m currently writing it on a sunny afternoon in Seattle, but given the way the next few weeks are going, I might be in Ashland, or New York, or Portland when this finally goes live.

But these pictures? They were taken in Bavaria – there is absolutely no doubt about that. Nowhere else in my travels have I found such blue skies, snow-capped mountains, piles of freshly-baked pretzels, and the most entitled pug to have ever existed outside of a royal court.

Here are 10 photos from our last trip there. It feels like it was just last week, but apparently it was three months ago. If you need me, I’ll be out on the street (in whatever city I find myself in) asking people where summer went.

  1. Anton, who manages to look like he’s suffering, despite being constantly spoiled.

    Do NOT fall for the puppy eyes.

    - (more…)

Many months ago, I wrote a post about the wonders of Bavarian food. I didn’t spend a lot of time fixating on dessert, which shows you just how darn good the sausages and breaded meat and dumplings of Southern Germany are (parenthetically, all of those dishes sound like euphemisms). A few folks told me that next time I found myself in that part of the world, I needed to try a dessert called kaiserschmarrn.

This intrigued me for several reasons:

  1. Kaiserschmarrn sounds like a term describing a sort of obnoxious, egotistical king. “Ugh, Henry VIII went through wives like a kindergardener does goldfish. He was such a kaiserschmarrn.” (In fact, the name literally translates to “the emperor’s mishmash”.)
  2. It is rare that I encounter a dessert I’ve never heard of before. It’s like when biologists discover a new species of animal in the rain forest. On the one hand, it was bound to happen, but on the other? It’s crazy shocking that something this big escaped my notice. I AM AN EXPERT, PEOPLE. I should know about these things.


Sometimes I will grab my husband, usually by the head, mash up his cheeks in my hands and say,

“Your face. Your STUPID face. I LOVE YOUR FACE. I’m … I’m gonna eat your face because I LOVE IT SO MUCH.”

I assume that all couples who have been together for more than a decade behave this way, expressing their affection through threats of cannibalism.

The thing is, though, I really do adore his face, every (tiny) crease and freckle and even the errant chicken pox scar on his forehead (that is almost, but not quite, a mirror reflection of one I have). To quote one of my favorite movies, “It’s … it’s a good face.”